Hi all, I'll get straight to the point; I'm having issues figuring out why I fantasize about myself with another man (sometimes made up, other times a close friend). The really alarming thing (as if that wasn't enough for me to try and process) is that I fantasize about the two of us together 40-50 years from now. I like the idea that I would know all of him and he would know all of me, that we had been with each other this whole time and yet we still loved one another (as far as I know, this friend is straight and might even be a little homophobic... hooray, more confusion! (!) ). The unresolved issues part of the title has to do with the fact that both of my grandfathers died when I was 4 years old. I have no recollection whatsoever of one of them; he lived far away and I think the only time I saw him would have been when I was 2 years old. I obviously cannot remember much of my other grandfather (I was only 4 after all), but I remember loving and admiring him, always being excited when we were going to visit, how sometimes he would take me to the grocery store and we'd get sugary cereal (not allowed in my house), and how warm and wise he seemed. Basically, I'm not sure if I'm fantasizing about myself with this other guy many years from now because that's what I'm actually looking for in my life or if I'm just longing for that void in my life to be filled. I realize 2 decades should be enough time to get over the loss of a loved one and that whatever issues might have cropped up from this should have come and gone a long time ago, but I've never really been able to let him go; whenever I have a big (think character defining) decision to make, I always try to think of whether my grandfather would be proud of my choice. I've come to know that my grandfather wasn't a perfect man, but I guess you could say I've put him up on a glass pedestal and that's where he stays in my memory. I realize this would be beyond weird if my fantasies have anything to do with unresolved grandfather issues, but I'm confused about my thoughts and feelings as is, and I'd appreciate any feedback :help: Thanks.
Just clear one thing up for me. You say you are fantasising about this. Is it JUST fantasies about knowing another person completely and loving them, or is it sexual as well?
It's sexual as well. I was reading one of the recommended threads last night regarding how some people go through the 5 grieving stages when trying to come to terms with their orientation; could this just be me in the denial stage? The more I think about and re-read my own post, the more I feel like I'm grasping at straws. Do you think that's the case?
First of all, to get where you're coming from, I took a look at your previous thread. So I should preface that this is pretty much a combined answer to this and the previous one. Let's start with the unresolved issues from this thread. Frankly, I think it's highly doubtful that the memory of your grandfather is causing you to be attracted to men. Most people I know lost their grandparents early on, and have fond memories, while they turned out straigh regardless. And while an idealised past might inform the details of some fantasies, but wouldn't tend to totally dominate them to the point of overriding something as basic as hormones. So, you might be hoping to date a guy who's patient and kind and wise (then again, that's kind of independent of your past. Very few people want to date dumb impatient childish guys ), and that might borrow some from past experiences. But in your previous thread you did mention that there's other elements to the attraction. - There's the fact that girls never really did it for you (to the point where thinking about them in intricate romantic/sexual fantasies was a bit of a chore). - There's the fact that when you loosened up just a little bit and had a sexual fantasy about a guy, the results were much more pronounced - There is the fact that being among gay people didn't feel all that weird, and even felt welcoming, as if you fit in. Those are not signs that are likely to come from fond remembrance of your grandfather. They exist on a different level alltogether. So I consider it unlikely that it's an unresolved issue, rather than a real attraction. Since you closed your previous thread with a question about how it was for others to find out that they were gay, I'd like to offer my own story: I can actually very well remember the place and time where I realised I was gay. It was on a train ride home to my parents, and I was typing up a mail on my laptop. I was replying to a friend and one of the topics in his mail was "are you dating anyone, these days?". I was typing almost absent-mindedly, and suddenly I found myself typing (paraphrased) "Nope, no girls in my life yet. Truth be told, I never was very interested in them. I've always been interested in guys, but was thinking it's only a phase. Guess it isn't" And as I re-read that sentence, I found out it suddenly all made sense. - Only rarely had I even checked out guys, but I suddenly realised that not doing so took conscious effort. - I had only tried flirting with a few girls, but I suddenly realised that whenever I tried it, there was this fear in the back of my mind that they'd want to move forward too fast. Dating girls was boring at best, and a vague dread at worst. - I did have sexual fantasies about guys before that, but I always had managed to convince myself that I was just admiring them, or that "this was a one-time fluke", even though it felt pretty amazing. I remember occasionally dabbling with the thought of "what if I'm gay?" before that, but immediately jumping to elaborate theories on how I was really straight and the gay feelings were only an effect of something else. I thought of gay guys as some sort of other species, and that I couldn't possibly be one of "them" and that I built every theory in such a way that it would only allow me to conclude I was straight. More than anything else, the fact that made me realise I was gay was that it would make so much sense with everything else in my life up until that point. It needed no elaborate psychological theories or ad-hoc explanations, except that I was gay and had been unwilling to admit it to myself. Life has, by the way, been pretty good since then. My friends proved remarkably accepting (even the most homophobic ones are still good friends, though it's vaguely "don't ask, don't tell" with them). I only lost one friend over it, and I sometimes think he and I would have drifted apart anyway. I found out just how much easier life becomes when you're not spending half your energy constraining yourself. And, remarkably, apart from feeling better, it didn't change all that much. I still do the same things, have the same hobbies, hang out with the same friends. Except that occasionally they ask me what I think of "that guy over there", instead of "that girl over there" Phew, almost wrote a novel, here. I hope it could be of some help!
Filip, that is just brilliant. This is actually how I came out to myself, it is the aftermath of consequences and why couldn't I just accept it earlier that has become too complex and distracted me from just chilling out and enjoying this ride. m477 I really do think that somewhere we are capable of just knowing. It can be that simple. What get's crazy complicated is when we don't want to acknowledge it to ourselves or if we are looking for ways to justify it to those around us. Grief does play huge tricks on us. Holding on tightly plays tricks on us. Can you answer the question for yourself, what do you want? Who do you want to be with? A guy, a girl? When I get anxious, which happens less and less these days, I step back, clear the noise of unresolved issues out, and it becomes easy once again to just answer that question.
First of all, thanks to everyone who replied. Filip - Thanks for replying to the questions posed by both of my threads; you've been a ton of help and I really appreciate you sharing your story I think you're right, this isn't about any sort of issues from my past. It's like I'm looking for any way to twist what I'm feeling into a narrative that makes some sort of sense to me. The problem with that, of course, would be that feelings don't always make sense. I'm hoping that I'll have that moment of clarity that you wrote about, where you just knew who you were. palimpsest - You're right on both counts of trickery. In this case, I think I'm just trying to hold on to who I thought I was. I don't know who I want to be with; I'm confused with my own feelings. Think I need to take a step back, relax for a few days, then try to wrap my head around this. I just wish this made sense to me.
